


Bad To The Bone

by reinadefuego



Category: Fast and the Furious Series
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Sexual Content, Slash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-31
Updated: 2015-12-31
Packaged: 2020-07-12 19:44:53
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,795
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19951822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/reinadefuego/pseuds/reinadefuego
Summary: He smiles at me, I smile at him - an hour later we're stretched out on a king-size bed in his hotel room. He's bigger than I imagined, in the best possible way. Photos don't do Luke Hobbs justice. Especially when there's only a sheet between us.





	Bad To The Bone

He smiles at me, I smile at him — an hour later we're stretched out on a king-size bed in his hotel room with only a sheet covering us. He's bigger than I imagined, in the best possible way. Photos don't do Luke Hobbs justice. They don't show how the scars go down his ribs and back, let alone the pure muscle that has wrapped around his skeleton. He stretches out and I prop myself up on my elbows, allowing his arm to rest across the pillows and me to put my head against his chest.

Not once did I imagine things would turn out this way. The plan was to walk in and kill him, not . . . do what we did. Hobbs doesn't say anything, he just watches TV and seemingly keeps his cool for a while.

"Shaw?" he grunts, turning his head and glancing down at me.

"Yeah?" I say, looking up at him. There's something in his eyes and I don't know what it is. It's certainly not sympathy. I have none for him and he has none for me. He knows why I'm in Los Angeles — he has to know, saying it aloud would only confirm his possible suspicions and we both know what will happen the minute all of this ends.

"Walk away. This is the only chance I'm giving you."

I chuckle. He's giving _me_ a chance? Maybe he _doesn't_ know why I'm here. That would be ironic. Irony would be him letting me walk out of here and to get in my car, but going off the look on his face, that's not even remotely an option.

He sits up properly, muscles flexing and contracting as he does, making them bulge and the veins strain against his skin. Hobbs is a real warrior. A real man. A man that if I wasn't on a warpath, I could very much become involved with. Hobbs says something about taking a shower and goes into the bathroom, leaving only his body heat next to me. The mattress has already moulded to his shape, his weight — just more proof that I should turn around and walk away like he's suggesting.

There's one problem.

I can't.

Walking away would suggest I forgive the bastards he's protecting for what they did to my brother.

I don't.

My brother broke his own code that day on the bridge. He allowed the job to become personal. Precision went out the window and it became all about returning the favour. Owen messed up, and now he's in a coma.

I can hear the shower running, Hobbs struggling to move around in the small cubicle. That glass box they call a shower wasn't designed for people like us. It's not wide enough, or long enough, and there's certainly not enough room to have sex in it.

We did give it a try, at least.

I sit up and crawl to the end of the bed, muscles aching in delight as I lean down and pick up my pants, sliding my phone out of the right pocket.

_Two missed calls._

Shit, she's going to kill me.

The shower's still running, but I can blow that off as me getting ready to have one. If Hobbs came out and spoke on the other hand, that would be a whole different problem. Screw it, that's what balconies are for right? Exhibitionism and awkward phone calls.

I quickly pull on my pants, securing the top button and leaving the fly undone. If Hobbs comes up behind me, at least I'll be prepared. He nearly broke the zipper on the first attempt at getting them undone, not realising they're a size too small.

I dial the number, walking out to the balcony and looking out across Los Angeles. The moon isn't visible, there's not a cloud in the sky and you can hear the waves crashing against the shore. The wind has picked up, a storm probably announcing its arrival. The phone rings twice before she picks up. There' a groan, and then a yawn before she finally speaks.

_"They dead yet?"_

"I just landed yesterday, give me some time."

 _"You've had over a year, there's been plenty of time."_ She pauses, and my heart stops at the same time. Oh fuck, don't tell me there's bad news, kid. I don't want bad news, I want her to tell me that Owen is awake, that my brother is fine and safe and that this is just some twisted dream. That truthfully, I'm the one in a coma.

Reality is a bitch, sometimes.

_"So what's it like?"_

I frown. All the time she's spent flying around and not once has she been to Los Angeles? "LA's okay, it's a coastal city. Seen 'em once, you've seen 'em all, right?"

She makes a noise of agreement. We all made it a rule back before I went underground to never say our names over the phone, but sometimes rules are made to be broken. Names can be comforting, and God knows she needs a hug right now. Elle said she was going to sit at Owen's bedside and read him Jane Austen, because the amount of crap Collins spews in Pride & Prejudice is just one of the many things that piss our brother off.

_"So what's it really like?"_

The floor inside the room creaks, Luke's footsteps sound behind me and the next thing I know there's a hand on my hip. Son of a bitch, couldn't he wait thirty fucking minutes?

"I'll call you back," I say, moving the phone away from my ear.

"Come back to bed," Luke says, just loud enough for the phone to catch it and the next minute there's a laugh coming from the phone.

His fingers graze my hip, running around my waist and straight to my back, sending a shiver up my spine and a jolt straight down to my dick. _Oh fuck._ I'm straining against my pants, throbbing hard in anticipation.

 _"So who is it?"_ her voice is louder, like she's shouting.

"Just a bloke from the hotel bar. I'll call you back."

_"What's his arse like?"_

"Tight," Luke says as I look at him. There's a smirk on his face. He's actually having fun with his. There's a challenging look in his eyes. He wants me to play his game, but I don't play games anymore.

_"And he's a Yank!"_

"Love you too, now get some sleep."

_"Fine, whatever. Night, Dick."_

"Goodnight," Luke says as I hang up.

Deckard Adam Shaw. Deck for short, or when she's bored, it becomes Dick, and then the gay jokes start. It's funny how close we grew up, and yet two out of three turned out to be gay. Owen's the only straight one, but he's also the only one who's managed to hold down a relationship — until Hobbs's friend ejected him from a plane.

"A friend?"

"You've read my file, you know who it'd be," I respond, leaning back as his right hand cups my arse. Anyone else and I would've killed them. I don't know why it was him, what made my gut twist after the fight, but it's him. My instincts have rarely been wrong and I doubt they are tonight.

"Sister," he mumbles against my neck as he kisses it, throwing in a bit of tongue while his left hand rests just at the base of my abdomen. Close enough that it sends another spike of arousal through me, but far enough that he's not _really_ touching me. I lean back, pressing hard against him and trapping him between our bodies.

"Fuck," he hisses, teeth grazing my throat.

I grind against him as he shifts position just in time, sliding straight between my cheeks. Oh God, he's hard and damp and oh shit. Hobbs uses his weight to pin me against the railing. We're twelve storeys up, twelve storeys between us and certain death. Even he can't survive a drop like that, nor can I. He snatches the phone out of my hand, tossing it into a small pot plant for a soft landing.

"You know, when we met in Kandahar," Luke whispers. His hot breath is on my ear, dick against my arse and hand teasing me like nobody's business.

I'd almost forgotten Kandahar.

Almost.

It was where the chase started, where the US government royally fucked me up the arse and sent me running. Prior to that, I was a freelancer, a so-called mercenary for the UK and US governments. Then they decided drones could do a better job, so they sent in twenty elite operatives.

I killed every one of those sons of bitches.

And then they sent Hobbs.

He groans, beginning a slow ease back and then a sharp thrust forward, toying with me. I'm aching, burning for him and he's just playing with me. He grabs my hands, pressing them against the railing and lacing his fingers through mine.

"Shaw."

I won't play his game, won't give him the satisfaction of me breaking under his touch. He can go jack off in the bathroom if he thinks I'll bend over and offer up my arse to him like he offered his to me. To hell with that. I don't offer my goods up to anyone.

"Deckard," Luke growls, letting go of my hands as his hips jack forward again.

I pull away just as he pulls back, sidestepping him and walking inside. Two can play at this game. "Get on your knees, Hobbs." I turn, watching him step into the room and close the sliding glass door then dump my cellphone onto the entertainment unit where the TV sits.

"Excuse me?"

I smile, and it's one I've practised a thousand times. Smug enough to seem that I'm just toying with him, playing, but the rest is a not-so-heavily concealed 'shut the fuck up and do what I tell you.' I walk forward, grabbing him by the elbow and hauling his arse straight to the bed. "Get on your knees, _Special_ Agent Hobbs."

He stares me down, like he's revelling in the two-inch height difference, but I'm not backing down. "Do you want me make you kneel?"

Luke eases himself down one leg at a time, his head's level with my abdomen and my heart is pounding. I don't do all that weird dominant submissive 'tying people up' crap, but something tells me the big alpha doesn't get bossed around much.

"Good," I say, reaching out to touch his cheek. I run my thumb over his lips, his tongue flicking out to lick it before I smile. "God, you look beautiful," I add, his eyes looking up at me as I look down at him. Gazes holding, he reaches forward to undo my button.


End file.
